Bloodlust, Tension and Release
by Indigo Signora
Summary: The third sequel to Unmasking. A frustrated Luigi attempts to put up with his brother's pathetic whining over his lost love.


**A/N:** This is a third alternate sequel to Unmasking. Heavens, I've been a tad sporadic in posting these, haven't I? Well, this one was written in September of '09, and I've done nothing to really update it. (That would seem blasphemous somehow.) So, please forgive any weaknesses. Warnings: intense amounts of language, violence and some sexual content.

* * *

There it was again, that goddamn sniffling.

Luigi followed the sound into some underused sitting room. Curled up in the fetal position on the couch was the whiny little bitch himself. Pavi had taken to spending the days feeling sorry for himself. Even the GENterns were getting bored of his depressing mood, hence the fact that they weren't around to grope him at the moment.

"Jesus Christ man, shut the fuck up. What is your problem, seriously?"

Pavi wiped at the eyeholes in his mask and looked up at the comment. "B-brother, you know-a my _b-bella_..."

"Oh, fuck, not this again." Luigi pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Would you just forget about that bitch and move on? You fucked up, she left, and she's not coming back. It doesn't fucking matter. Get over it." He made to leave.

"Lu-Luigi?"

Against his better judgment, Luigi turned back to face his red-eyed brother. "What?" he snapped.

"Can the Pavi...can I have a hug?"

Pavi looked so pathetic—more so than normal—that for a moment Luigi was speechless.

"Are you fucking serious?" He was almost laughing now. "Get a fucking life, fag boy, and leave me the hell out of your melodrama."

He stormed off without waiting for another stupid interruption from Pavi.

.*.

Adjusting his ascot while observing his reflection, Luigi made no motion to see who had entered the bathroom. Rather, he snarled.

"Occupied, dumbass. 'Less you want a knife in your ribcage, I'd get the fuck out."

He watched in the mirror as Pavi sidled past him and sat on the closed toilet lid. With a greatly exaggerated sigh, Pavi set his chin in one hand and stared into his own mirror gloomily.

Luigi gave him a full thirty seconds before losing his cool. "What the fuck do you want now?"

"The Pavi does not-a know what to-a do anymore, brother. Without his _bella_, he is-a lost." Pavi sighed again. "What to do, what to do."

"Pavi, you have the mistaken impression that I give a damn. You've got every GENtern in this city wanting to suck you off, but you're too busy jerking it to some bitch who left you. You know..." He paused, musing. "I could always take care of her for you."

Pavi raised his eyes warily. "Take-a care...?"

Luigi pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt. He brandished it in front of his brother's face. "_Take care of her_. Then you wouldn't have to worry about the bitch anymore."

The aghast look on his brother's face was near comical. "Luigi! How could you-a say such a thing? Not my _bella_, my poor _bella_..." He continued to shake his head, stunned.

"Just trying to help out, _fratello_," Luigi muttered as he returned his gaze to the mirror.

.*.

"Amber, we have to do something about that idiot." Luigi sniffed his coffee before taking a sip. He saw his lackey relax visibly when he didn't spit it out.

"Pavi, I assume." His sister was regarding her hands with mild intrigue. "I think my fingers should be longer, don't you?"

"I don't care. Listen, I'm getting sick and tired of his bullshit. All he does is bitch and complain about that girl who fucked him and left. We need to get him to shut up about the entire thing."

Amber was still disinterested. "He'll get over it eventually."

"Eventually isn't fucking soon enough!" Luigi took a deep breath after a glare from Amber. "Right, so, what are we gonna do about it?"

"Hmm..." The head of GeneCo looked to the ceiling dreamily. The Zydrate was flowing liberally in her veins. With a tittering laugh at nothing, she ran a finger down Luigi's cheek. "Oh, Lu, you just need to loosen up. Don't worry about it. Just relaaaaax..." She reclined in her loveseat and giggled again.

"You're useless," Luigi spat, disgusted. He was apparently the only one in the city who wanted Pavi back to his normal self. As much as that idea irked him as well, it was better than the alternative. Depressive, moody Pavi was tenfold more annoying than happy, outgoing Pavi. At least the cheerful Pavi didn't mope around and bother Luigi with pointless whining.

Deciding that talking to his stoner sister was a waste of his time, Luigi retreated to his room to brood. He sat on the bed and stared at his knife. It was one of his favourites: eight inches long, lightly serrated, polished wooden handle. It was an antique, or so he had been told. Handcrafted by some old man in the twentieth century, according to the back alley merchant.

He could just see his distorted reflection in the spotless steel. Not once had he let the blood dry on any of his blades. They were his pride and joy.

Each murder was not clear in his mind. They all just blended into one seamless killing—a flash of silver; the lovely sound of metal on skin, slipping across bone; warm rivers of blood soaking his clothing. The cries of terror were all a collective scream of agony and ecstasy to him. He lived for that feeling, the tension in their bodies as they tried to reject the knives, flexing and writhing and struggling to get away. That was the best part. Taking a person by surprise was never all that fun. He wanted to feel their fear.

As the memories of the stabbings whirled in his mind, his pulse quickened. He closed his eyes and imagined his blade sinking into taut flesh. He felt himself grow hard with the excitement of his thoughts.

That's what he needed right now. Some bloodshed. He had been too stressed lately; hadn't killed anyone in a while. It would be a great tension reliever.

Luigi re-sheathed his knife and headed for the door. Still in a daze, he wondered vaguely who he might go after. Maybe a GENtern. They were easy to replace. Or maybe that idiot henchboy. He was pretty much useless anyway.

His feet carried him through the building without him noticing much. He passed the drawing room where Amber was still recumbent. He strolled by the store rooms where the GENterns were organizing the newly acquired organs. The smell of Zydrate being developed was drifting out from a nearby lab. Luigi acknowledged none of it, only continued walking.

He arrived at a sitting room—the same in which Pavi had asked for a hug just days before—and took a seat. Nothing had really caught his eye on the way there. The bloodlust continued to nag at his consciousness, though, and he needed to fulfill its demands.

When Pavi entered the room and sat down next to him on the sofa, the urge to kill was great and ever-mounting.

"Ah, _fratello_, the Pavi is-a still upset. I do wish you would-a care."

Luigi's fingers tensed around the handle of his knife. "Nice fucking wish, fag boy."

"But I am your brother," Pavi said, his voice morose. "Shouldn't you-a care how I feel?"

"Not when you go on about it twenty-four-fucking-seven." Luigi could just see the glint of the steel at the corner of his eye. His stabbing arm twitched.

Pavi noticed the blade at that point. "_Fratello_..."

"If I were you, I'd get the fuck out of my sight and shut up about that stupid bitch before I _cut you to fucking ribbons_!" Luigi raised the tip of the blade to Pavi's nose. "Understand, brother?"

Pavi wasted no time in getting the hell out of there. Luigi watched him scamper off, then brought his attention to the knife.

"He needs a friend like you," Luigi murmured to the steel. "Won't judge, won't run off, won't talk." He ran the handle along the crotch of his pants, where the blood continued to pound. He leaned back and moaned softly as he thought of the dying shrieks of another faceless peasant.

Yes, Pavi needed a more _faithful_ friend.

Release. Luigi needed release.

.*.

The rag wiped slow circles over the metal, picking up every spot of lackey blood that had been spattered. Luigi, still shirtless after having removed his now-stained clothing, continued to clean the knife with the gentle, loving strokes of someone handling their most prized possession.

It wasn't healthy to let that amount of tension build up. He wouldn't pen it up for so long next time.

And god help him, if Pavi said so much as another word about that stupid bitch _Bella_...

Luigi stared into the now-gleaming blade.

"Then I know who's gonna relieve me next."

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews are love~ Thanks for reading!


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